Past and future are restraints, forbidding entrance to the present – distractions to the cardinal’s song, the whispered breeze upon my skin and the scent of sage that glides the air. To be everywhere, is to be nowhere but to hear is to be everywhere.
by K. Osei
i’ve lost more life in the moments
than the months.
measured by minutes absent of want.
to sit by the shore, to see the sea roar – that is life.
To understand that the good that is mine can not be taken, only squandered by time. To have an aim is natural but to strain in obsession is the folly of contemporary men. Awareness is the bliss we search for in happiness and the attention we crave from others. It is the overall satisfaction and efficiency rewarded by attention to the moments of life. The offense is neither in the possession nor absence but rather, being confined by them. That the need or craving for things exists in a collective conscience, is evidence of its innate naturalness and proof of purpose – that it can not be secured or quenched through an external source is mastery. Moments missed neither tarry nor return, though another may appear, our corporal opportunities are finite. Attention to the moments matter – it is the way home. The often over used adage, “Home is where the heart is,” is more than cliche,’ it is maxim. Within the moment we find more than useless contentment, we uncover intense appreciation and joy for both possession and presence, regardless of quantity. It is wholly independent. From this perspective the rich and poor are merely different sides of a single cent, but that is not to say that either can’t experience greater wealth than the other. For the true value we place on anything is merely a reflection.
by K. Osei
not the tired but restless soul
earns no rest.
wavering and wandering
uncertain pondering
searching to express.
for what is the grub
that departs its hub
but a dragonfly at its best.
souls nature deplores confined –
not extraneous tethers
and iron fetters
but the trembling state of mind.
seedlings travers the night
dispatching sapling to the light
redeeming destiny from time.
opulence nor pleasure
is sublime or bliss,
neither can satisfy natures wish
to reveal her latent treasure.
to dive the souls abyss
resurface with gold in fist
is man’s meaning and measure.
The superior man lives in harmony with conscience. He suffers no schism of thought, his actions are firmly fixed to his aim in public and private. He moves without hesitation looking situation in the eye without concern. The whole of life is contained in self. The external world can never be right until the self is in order, for all that we see is a mere reflection. The arrangement of thought is no different than the arrangement of atoms. That is, the product produced reflect the substance arrangement. Wisdom is acquired by default in the self disciplined life and the true self dwells in repetition.
by K. Osei
when i rise
before i wake,
i surmise
which path to take.
one of touch
the other i feel,
to release my clutch
and grasp what’s real.
a life on earth
i use to seek,
was one of mirth
among the weak.
in umbrage i dwelled
eclipsed by fear,
a living hell
but now I am, clear.
subjectively frail
without resolve,
tossed by the gales
forced to evolve.
In their purified form all region, like music, is man’s inadequate attempt to express his very own nature from a particular cultural perspective. Every character is a chord vibrating within the unified field, projecting and contracting in search of harmony. We are the sinner and the savior. The roles change, the characters vary and the interpretations differ according to culture, perhaps even geography — but the least common denominator is always common. Man is both creator and creation.
by K. Osei
Shh – hush now, the time has come!
draw the shades, still the mind,
calmly now,
sheath the blade — all is fine.
embrace the embers
beneath the flame,
return the chared
to ash again.
the dew has risen
and settled
upon all that was won
– never to win.
it’s finally done,
never to end.
the mammoth remembers the long road home,
in solitude he journeys but never alone.
summers canopy must release its hold
in exchange for life amid the cold
Shh – hush now, the time has come,
a gentle smile emerged to one.
The nature of the warrior follows the path of nature. Ever striving for balance within self, that he may impart peace to others. Storming the gates in the war of men. Slaughtering and slaying the enemy within, restoring peace and unity among his brothers. He sees no opponent, no opposition, no other. He seeks not conflict nor does he fear it. His mission is clear, he understands the path to peace can not be restrained and harmony is the dance of odds.
by K. Osei
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